


On the Outside, Looking In

by Fig Newton (sg_fignewton)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Different perspectives, Drabble Series, Episode Related, Gen, It's all canon, Season by Season, episode familiarity required, outside pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_fignewton/pseuds/Fig%20Newton
Summary: A series of episode-related drabbles from the perspective of an outsider or a minor character. There's one here for every movie and episode of SG-1.Current chapter: Season Eight.





	1. Stargate: the Movie

**Author's Note:**

> I am a huge fan of outside perspective, especially when the POV character knows less than the readers. This was an experiment in moments of time throughout the series as seen by someone _other_ than the main characters.
> 
> I began this series in January 2012. To date, it is only complete through S8, but I have high hopes that the impetus of seeing it all together will help me finish this!
> 
> Whenever the episode allowed it, I used a Goa'uld perspective, just because. :) There are plenty of original characters here, but there's also liberal usage of minor characters - with "minor" meaning anything from one-time guest stars to Janet and George.
> 
> Familiarity with the basic events of each episode are required. This is not a fic for someone who has only watched an episode or two of the show.
> 
> All drabbles are exactly 100 words according to Semagic, but AO3's word count may differ.

The warning klaxon sounded, alerting the base. West, disbelieving, abandoned dignity and dashed to the control room. He arrived in time to see three figures, tattered uniforms covered with frost, stagger out of the Stargate. Two immediately collapsed.

"Shut it down!" the last one gasped. "Hurry!"

West nodded curtly at the woman at the computer interface. Seconds later, the event horizon winked out.

"Identified hostiles," O'Neill mumbled, slumping to hands and knees. "Set the... going off in..." Falling face-down on the metal grate, he lay still.

West exhaled slowly. They'd need to check, of course, but -- mission accomplished, apparently.


	2. Season One

_COTG_

It left the warm, humid comfort of its temporary refuge to sniff warily at this latest offered habitat. Fins flared as it tasted the scent drifting in the air, ignoring the familiar tang of fear to detect the subtleties layered beneath. 

Instinct prodded it to accept this one. Yet it hesitated, noting the absence of that rare, delicate aroma that always promised the most optimal environment. True, this organism would suffice, but it would not be completely satisfying.

With a final hiss of rejection, Amaunet retreated. It didn't want mere adequacy. Surely Apophis would soon offer her something more pleasing.

*

_Enemy Within_

Colonel Kennedy marched stiffly toward the elevator, his face an expressionless mask.

Unbelievable! These people were supposed to be the front lines, defending Earth from the Goa'uld, and Hammond was completely incapable of the most basic pragmatism! What was the life of a single soldier under such circumstances? How could he ignore the tremendous potential that a careful study of the alien's symbiote could provide?

The President was in Hammond's corner now, but Kennedy knew that wouldn't last. He considered what slant to put on his formal report. Some day, he hoped, he'd get the chance to bring Hammond down.

*

_Emancipation_

Odval watched the four strangers from the Sea of Ogada stride away, back to their strange lives where women dressed and lived as men. The heavy curtain that had warded male Shavadai from her since the days she first showed signs of womanhood lay trampled on the earth; but Odval, still dutifully applauding, felt the corner of her mouth curl in derision. Did Carter truly imagine that with a single bout, she had changed everything? Odval only hoped that tomorrow, when life resumed its normal course, none would die from the heavy fist of anger that would demand dutiful acquiescence. 

*

_The Broca Divide_

Makepeace sat very still as Warner carefully bandaged his mangled hands. Even now, blood seeped from beneath the sterile wrappings.

He was grateful that he remembered little of that descent into madness. Flashes of rage, warped perception, his throat still raw from the guttural screams that were echoing in his mind...

He'd heard O'Neill talking to Frasier about a final mission to the planet, and grimly announced he was going along. He owed Jackson that much.

_Loss of control_. It went against everything he stood for. Robert clenched his teeth, silently vowing he would not allow himself such helplessness again.

*

_The First Commandment_

When their rescuers were gone and they stood unharmed beneath the orange sky, Jamala suggested that it would be wise to bury the Doorway to avoid future invasions.

His advice was instantly accepted, leaving Jamala startled and uneasy. True, he had wielded the staff weapon; but surely his people understood _now_ that it was only a tool, and not a sign of divine favor?

Jamala made sure to fade into the background after that. He was proud of his role in helping to save his people, but he didn't want to be a leader -- they seemed to die rather quickly.

*

_Cold Lazarus_

Sara had been a military wife for years. She'd always personified competence as she dealt with loss, uncertainty, pain, and repercussions. She could fix a leaky pipe, repair a car, handle bureaucracy, manage all the everyday details that her husband could not (because he was deployed, or was a prisoner, or here-and-not-here while he recovered).

But how, _how_ could she handle this?

_Not Charlie, not Charlie_ , Sara chanted silently. _It's not our son._

She stared, mesmerized, as Jack walked away, clutching the tiny hand of the... _thing._ Taking _it_ back to the "Stargate."

_Please. Don't come back._

*

_The Nox_

Lya held Nefreyu's hand and smiled down at him, grateful that his innocence remained untouched.

"They thought very strangely," Nefreyu told her.

"Yes, they did," Lya agreed. "They were very young."

Nefreyu looked curious. "Younger than me?"

Lya considered. "In some ways," she said at last. "Youth is not always measured in years."

Then again, Nefreyu had seen 117 revolutions of their sun. By Opher's account, the Tau'ri were indeed young.

Remembering the Alliance of her own past, she sighed. She'd been so eager back then, too. Age brought wisdom, but the Tau'ri might not have the patience to acquire it.

*

_Brief Candle_

Danel scowled at the laughing boy racing ahead of him. It wasn't fair! Calimerio was only two days older than him, yet his legs were longer, his pace swifter. Danel could never run as fast as his friend. 

He slowed to a walking pace, then stopped completely. Calimerio was too far ahead by now. Danel kicked at a stone, muttering angrily to himself. Wouldn't he _ever_ grow bigger?

Alekos said it was a good thing that Jack had taught them to reject Pelops and learn to live in "years," but Danel wished they could have waited just a little longer.

*

_Thor's Hammer_

"You seem at peace, my friend," Gairwyn said gently on her next visit. "I am pleased that our recent visitors have eased your distress."

"It was Thor who aided me, not our new friends from Midgard," Kendra replied. "Yet they served as good messengers." She showed Gairwyn the strange box that Daniel had given her. "They left this as a token, should we ever wish to summon them back here."

Gairwyn took the box, noting the odd design and unusual weight. "They seemed to be good people, and Thor surely approved their actions. But I cannot imagine wanting their return."

*

_The Torment of Tantalus_

Ernest had long ago learned to distrust his senses. He'd conversed with a Catherine that didn't exist even as he smelled her perfume, tasted savory meat rather than the colorless pellets that sustained him without flavor, seen the Doorway waken when it actually remained dormant. Only touch did not betray him, as all mirages vanished under questing fingers.

So he initially ignored the rumble, the rippling light, even the incredible sound of other voices. It was only when he tentatively approached the young stranger and _felt_ him, found him _real_ , that Ernest allowed himself the luxury of tears of relief.

*

_Bloodlines_

Drey'auc clasped trembling hands together as the priest began the ceremony. She had schemed, argued, even begged to acquire a _prim'ta_ for Ry'ac. She'd ignored her shamed, diminished existence and thrown all her determination into ensuring that her son would live.

So when Teal'c suddenly appeared -- after abandoning his family, exposing them to humiliation, and condemning them to this miserable life without explanation -- and stopped the implantation, Drey'auc didn't hesitate. She sprang out of the shadows and attacked. Father of her son and once-worthy mate he might be, but if Teal'c dared threaten her child's life, he would _pay._

*

_Fire and Water_

Dr. MacKenzie was used to employing unusual skill sets at the SCG. A doctor of psychiatry isn't often asked to conduct autopsies, much less determine the mental states of victims of infectious, degenerative diseases from other planets. Hypnosis sessions to determine the possibility of conditioned responses to an artificially-imposed mental block seemed tame in comparison... until he factored in the source of that block, a fish-like alien that had apparently abducted SG-1, experimented upon them, and then convinced these three that Dr. Jackson had been burned alive.

Bizarre was the norm here. He'd always need to remember that.

*

_Hathor_

Hathor bridled at the constant need to grace these brutish slaves with the perfumed enchantment of her exhalations. They should fall bewitched at her feet more easily! And these ugly transports, belching fumes... Where were the chariots of old, ships of land and air and sea?

This species was too weak, she decided disdainfully. For all their prettiness and fecundity, they still required too much guidance from their betters.

Stretching out the senses of her true self, she allowed a frown to mar the exquisite perfection of the host's features. She must find the _chappa'ai_ and leave this tiresome planet.

*

_Singularity_

"Every kid has to have a dog," Cassandra said earnestly. "Jack said it's an Earth rule." 

"I'm sure he did," Janet said.

Cassandra eyed her a little nervously. Janet's expression _seemed_ pleasant, with that faint curve to her lips. But if they'd been back on Hanka, Cassandra would've been sure that Janet was actually annoyed.

Janet must have seen her uncertainty, for her expression relaxed into a more genuine smile. "It's all right, Cassandra," she assured her. "You can keep the dog." Her eyes glinted. "And I'm sure Colonel O'Neill will be happy to teach you all about cleanup, too."

*

_Cor-Ai_

Hammond paced slowly, hands clasped behind his back.

He'd been dreading this possibility since Teal'c joined SG-1. Old war crimes. No common interplanetary legal conventions; no right answers. Military intervention would require permission from reluctant superiors, and he didn't dare push any harder.

O'Neill had the luxury of a narrower focus: his team, his people. He could afford anger. But Hammond had to balance the weight of his duty to every man and woman who walked through blue light to a jurisdiction beyond his control. He needed to conserve his clout for the battles he _could_ win.

_I'm sorry, Teal'c._

*

_Enigma_

The hands holding him seemed tentative. He missed the firm grasp of his pet female. _She_ knew how to stroke his fur properly and was well-trained to be responsive to his demands.

He ventured a rumbling purr, testing this new pet. The hands tightened just a little.

He shifted abruptly to indignant yowling as the new pet plunged him into water! It was cold, difficult to breathe... yet not wet, either. Where was his old pet? He wanted her back!

As they emerged from the not-water, Schrodinger pointedly scratched his new pet's hand. This one would need discipline.

*

_Solitudes_

Like many at the SGC, Major Castleman regarded the fourth member of SG-1 as something... _other._ He was Jaffa, not human. Formal general of their worst enemy, unnaturally strong, a _snake_ in his belly -- Castleman tried to tell himself it was a form of racism, but he couldn't stop the fear.

He maintained a professional, polite distance until Hammond ordered him to take the Jaffa with him on the search for the missing half of SG-1. Castleman nodded, saluted, and very carefully didn't shudder.

Afterwards, life saved, concussion healed, Castleman found it easy to think of the man as _Teal'c._

*

_Tin Man_

Harlan had been lonely for so long, ever since Wallace... left.

But there were no templates left. He'd tried copying himself, but without the original matrix, the machine simply didn't work. New synthetics remained lifeless, unmoving. 

So when four new beings -- four living, breathing sentients -- suddenly appeared, Harlan didn't ask permission. The thought of being refused, of being denied the chance to alleviate his terrible isolation, was too great to bear.

Instead, he activated the intruder alert system and watched the four newcomers collapse. Ignoring the twinge of guilt, he assured himself that they'd never find out about their copies.

*

_TBFTGOG_

"It's... SG-1's code, sir," Davis reported, confused. SG-1 had gone to the Beta Site two days ago! Why would they come back now, blocking outgoing wormholes at such a crucial time?

His bewilderment was only compounded when a complete stranger stepped through the Stargate. Was this some bizarre trick of the Goa'uld?

Davis watched as Hammond efficiently dealt with the mysterious invader. Once the Embarkation Room had been cleared, Hammond glanced up at the control room. "Keep things moving, Davis," he ordered.

Nodding, Davis resumed the grim task of shifting as many evacuees to safety before their inevitable defeat.

*

_Politics_

Nurse Ellis expertly treated the nasty wound on Jackson's arm, disregarding his arguing companions. 

She was familiar with the members of the various Gate teams, of course; pre-mission screenings and post-mission examinations were a standard requirement. SG-1 might be more eclectic than most, but they had their temperature taken and blood drawn just like everyone else. The teams got a little noisy sometimes, but she knew how to be discreet, no matter what her patients might say or do.

SG-1's current topic seemed to be parallel universes, of all things. She ignored it with her usual professionalism. 

*

_Within the Serpent's Grasp_

How _dare_ these slaves -- and the _sholva_! -- attack his royal person!

With a snarl of fury, Klorel seized the arm of one slave as he tried to dart past. Ah, _yes_. This one, that his host called "Danyel." He focused all his frustrated anger for one purpose: to kill.

His host's silent howls of anguish only magnified his pleasure as the energy bore into the slave's brain. He increased the intensity, enjoying both the slave's agonized features and his host's impotent protests.

Klorel spared no thought for the shouts of the other slaves. He would regret this, but too late.


	3. Season Two

_The Serpent's Lair_

When chevrons suddenly lit and the Stargate flared to life, the milling scientists backed away hastily. Makepeace and the rest his team raised their weapons, aiming at the event horizon.

They expected another wave of frightened refugees from the SGC, unnerved civilians needing guidance. Instead, a figure in commando black came hurtling through, arms flailing as he emerged at precipitous speed. Instead of gaping at their guns, he regained his balance and made a beeline straight for Makepeace, who nearly shot him before he registered familiar features.

_"Jackson?"_

"Earth's still there," Jackson said hurriedly. "...I think. Lend me your GDO?"

*

_In the Line of Duty_

Jolinar tried to heal her host so they could survive and keep fighting, but the damage was too great.

_I'm sorry_ , she told the man's fading consciousness. The callous _ash'rak_ had wiped out this entire quiet village in his effort to take down one Tok'ra. She was certainly ready to die if need be, but like this? For no purpose?

Then she sensed it: another human being, leaning over the broken body. Slitted eyes glimpsed blond hair, blue eyes... _Rosha?_

The woman bent over, pressing her mouth against the host's. Weak with relief at this clear invitation, Jolinar leapt forward.

*

_Prisoners_

"You're the best we've got," General Hammond said soberly. "How soon can your team be ready?"

Kovacek frowned, mind racing. "We can Gate out at 1600, sir," he said finally. "I'll need that extra hour to learn what I can from Major Warren."

Hammond nodded. "Take what time you need, Stan. I want you at your best for this."

"We'll get SG-1 back, sir," Kovacek promised. "If there's a diplomatic solution to this mess with the Taldor, my team will find it."

Hammond sighed. "Let's hope there _is_ a diplomatic solution to this one," he muttered. "Dismissed, Major. And good luck."

*

_The Gamekeeper_

They watched in silence, as always. This was how it had always been -- fascinating scenes spun out before their eyes, but interaction? Impossible. 

Sometimes, one or two hesitantly voiced a wish for experiences of their own: to touch, to taste, to feel. Yet they knew, as the Gamekeeper constantly reminded them, that their bodies rested in stasis while their world was slowly repaired. This passive observation, the endless looping of the same games, was better than the slow, silent nothingness of absolute death!

Then the games changed, with no explanation offered for this new stimuli. They _needed_ to know why.

*

_Need_

Konar disliked the new prisoners with their strange clothing. The largest one bore a symbol on his forehead; its placement, so like the mark Pyrus had given him, suggested that he might truly be one of the Jaffa out of legend. Even shackled in the mines, the big man's cool disdain bespoke a kind of contempt. Could he know that Konar was human and not Jaffa? 

Better that he and his companions die as quickly as possible, Konar decided. 

"Increase their quota," he ordered. "Do not let them rest."

He would come back that evening, and hope they fared badly.

*

_Thor's Chariot_

When the soft chime sounded, it took Thor long moments to recognize the alarm he had devised so long ago. He paced to the console and peered at the runestone. Could it be that Cimmeria had already progressed so far?

Informing the Council of the necessary diversion, Thor quickly set a course for the planet they had guarded for so long. He focused his scans on the chamber that the Cimmerians called The Hall of Might. Yes -- three beings had reached the final challenge! He listened eagerly, hoping the time had come to reveal the Asgard as they truly were.

*

_Message in a Bottle_

**They** waited long, unable to do more than exist. Dormancy ensured survival, but **they** did not know if any future beyond stasis awaited.

Finally, after untold and uncountable time, **they** sensed a crucial change in the environment. **They** sought to grow again. But circumstances kept changing, interfering! How could **they** live when these strange beings denied **them** their chance? They would force **them** back to the world of cold emptiness!

Communication was key, **they** decided. Reaching out tendrils, **they** sought to find a path. A conduit, organic or inorganic -- anything would serve. Anything, that would allow the plea: _We are!_

*

_Family_

Apophis languidly stroked the head of the boy who gazed at him with adoring eyes.

Yes, this was the right attitude from the Jaffa: worship, love, desperation to satisfy. It pleased him that little forced encouragement had been needed to bring Teal'c's son to such a state.

The _shol'va_ dared to think he could foment rebellion? Then let him and the vile Tau'ri be ensnared by their own hubris! Smug in their ignorance, they would take this carefully coached child to their world. All it would take would be a single moment in the open air, and then...

Apophis smiled.

*

_Secrets_

As the _chappa'ai_ opened, the two Goa'uld moved forward, arm in arm. Apophis, focused on their departure, did not see Amaunet glance backward. She, however, clearly saw the Tau'ri, crouching at bay.

_Say nothing,_ her host commanded, summoning its puny will and focusing its fading control on this single point. _The child is gone. You have your pharoah. There is nothing for you here._

Amaunet paused, then turned her head back, lips pressed together as she stepped through the _chappa'ai_. This silence was her own choice, she told herself. Her choice alone.

The Go'auld have always excelled at self-deception.

*

_Bane_

Maybourne didn't bother to hide the smirk that curled one corner of his mouth as he handed his official papers to Hammond.

Last year, the alien had joined the civilian in a deliberate, transparent attempt to rob the NID of vital intelligence. Thanks to the Jaffa and Dr. Jackson, they'd lost the golden opportunity to enjoy unlimited access to an alien race that could introduce new and advanced technology to Earth.

Well, now Teal'c's death would give them access to a different kind of technology. Bioweapons might need more caution than conventional weaponry, but the results promised to be spectacular.

*

_The Tok'ra, part 1_

Garshaw struggled against incomprehension. The Tau'ri wished an alliance, but they refused to serve as hosts! What kind of alliance was that?

They _feared_ the Tok'ra, she slowly realized. They dreaded loss of control.

At Yussuf's suggestions, Garshaw retreated to allow her host to speak. Perhaps if these humans saw that she and Yussuf shared an equal partnership, they might better understand. For their own sakes, she hoped they would; she knew only too well what decision the Tok'ra Council would make.

"What you understand as 'soul' remains intact," Yussuf said earnestly, but Garshaw worried that the Tau'ri weren't listening. 

*

_The Tok'ra, part 2_

Through Saroosh's fading eyes, Selmac watched as the Tau'ri human prepared to offer himself as a new host. Lying on the bed next to Saroosh, Jacob Carter seemed uneasy, almost squeamish.

"...You must step away, Captain Carter," Martouf was saying to the young human woman.

"Goodbye, kid," Jacob Carter said quietly, and Selmac realized, with a pang, that these Tau'ri _still_ did not understand. Jacob believed he would be losing his sense of self and all connections with his daughter. And he still chose to offer himself as host?

_You will teach him otherwise,_ Saroosh whispered fondly, a last benediction.

*

_Spirits_

Tonane liked these people -- Sam, Daniel, Teal'c. He liked the man they'd introduced as Jack, and even General, whose feathered cloak of authority was visible even when he didn't wear it. 

But he didn't like what they wanted. The Spirits offered the _ke_ freely; there was enough for everyone to share. Why were they so hungry for more?

He sat quietly, watching the images dancing on the small square. He saw iron teeth chew trees into splinters, sharp cones driving into rock and shattering the mountain's beauty.

"Stop the images, please," Tonane said finally. It hurt too much to watch.

*

_The Touchstone_

Fingers trembling, eyes darting from the alien artifact to the muted display on his television, Henry Barton dialed a number. It rang only once before someone picked up the phone.

"Sir, you _must_ call a halt to this project," Barton hissed. "It's too dangerous. The results are all wrong!"

"Calm yourself, Doctor," a voice said coolly. "You're a scientist, aren't you? Think scientifically! Temporary setbacks have to be expected."

"But the repercussions!" Barton protested. "You can't just impose changes on a climate without --"

"The Touchstone Project will continue, Doctor."

The phone went dead. Burton stared at the television and shivered.

*

_The Fifth Race_

It was strange, Castleman thought bemusedly, as he and Captain Carter and Teal'c lay panting for breath in the pitiful shelter of their tents with their ineffectual air coolers, that he seemed to come closest to death when he was in the company of SG-1. He'd faced battles with Jaffa, hostile natives, and dangerous environments with his own team. But now he was faced with two suns and a Stargate that couldn't get them home.

The temperature kept climbing. But despite their bleak situation, Castleman didn't give up. He'd survived bad odds before; he believed they'd make it now, too.

*

_A Matter of Time_

As the military aircraft took off, Major Paul Davis covertly watched General Hammond. The man sat rigid in his chair, glaring downwards as if he could look through the plane's metal skin, as well as all twenty-eight levels of Cheyenne Mountain, to see what was happening to his people.

Paul sighed quietly. After months of studying reports, he'd looked forward to meeting the general -- maybe even seeing the SGC in action. Instead, he'd gone into the mountain to confront a possible alien incursion... and now, it turned out that the enemy was as faceless and unstoppable as time itself. 

*

_Holiday_

"Hey, Mack!" Sergeant Hearst called. "We've got an APB for a Daniel Jackson. I need you on it."

"Is he dangerous?"

"I doubt it. Here, look at this guy. Glasses, geeky clothes..."

"That doesn't mean a thing," Mack retorted.

"Yeah, okay. Report says to expect strange behavior. No mention of being armed, though."

Mack peered at the faxed picture. "We'll get started immediately. What's he done?"

"APB doesn't say. We're just supposed to find him, ASAP. Last seen... here." Hearst stabbed a finger towards a point on the city map.

"Right," Mack nodded. "Smithy! Lopez! Let's go find this Jackson."

*

_Serpent's Song_

When Apophis twisted in agony yet again, Janet prepared a dosage of morphine. Sam brought the Tok'ra -- Martouf, wasn't it? -- into the room just as she administered it.

"What is that you are injecting into his body?" he asked.

"Morphine sulfate," Janet answered briskly.

"To ease the pain," Sam clarified.

Martouf nodded sagely. "Yes, you said he had been tortured."

Annoyed at the casualness, Janet added pointedly, "He's also suffering withdrawal pangs from the sarcophagus."

Martouf looked puzzled. "But... he is your enemy."

"He's my _patient_ ," Janet snapped. 

The Tok'ra's blank incomprehension told her more than she wanted to know.

*

_One False Step_

Sickening, swooping dizziness of dissonant sound where the Song should be. Balance tipped, swayed -- without the steady, comforting hum of Life, it could not remain upright. It felt itself lifted, carried, then bitter, empty cold.

And then it learned that there could be something worse than discordance -- there could be blank silence!

It thrashed, panicking, lifting its own voice in a plaintive wail. It paused, frantically listening for the faintest reassurance of a melodic echo, but there was nothing except the odd noises of these strange creatures who seemed so deaf to the Song!

Wailing, despairing, it waited to die.

*

_Show and Tell_

Mother waited carefully, appendages poised over the human's computer interface. Her timing had to be perfect...

There! Her son was ready to walk through that which the humans called _Stargate_. She pressed the symbols in the correct sequence to open their metal shield.

The humans reacted with alarm; the shield slid back into place. Mother quickly interfaced again, opening it once more.

If she hadn't been so worried, Mother would have found the humans' confusion amusing. Instead, she focused on Jack O'Neill, the trustworthy one, speaking to her son.

They had just one chance. She hoped it would be enough.

*

_1969_

She hurried through the quiet corridors, her heart beating rapidly. If her calculations were correct, if she'd correctly interpreted Sam's careful hints, then now, _now_ was the time!

She halted her steps just outside the Gateroom, breathing deeply. Fingers traced the strap of the tiny device that she'd painstakingly created, basing her work on Thor's old designs. She'd never had the chance to use it -- until now.

At the sound of the _kawhoosh_ on the other side of the blast door, Cassandra smiled. It had worked! SG-1 was here!

"There's no place like home, Jack," she murmured, and stepped forward.

*

_Out of Mind_

Janet was in her office, studying a file, when one of the nurses knocked on the doorframe.

"Doctor? It's Teal'c! I think he's starting to come around."

Abandoning her work, Janet rushed to the section of the infirmary where Teal'c had lain, silent and still, for three weeks now. She ran an expert eye over the medical readouts. 

"Good work, Junior," she murmured. Everything looked normal -- for a Jaffa, anyway. Teal'c would be regaining consciousness momentarily.

She picked up the phone. "General Hammond? You might want to come here, sir. It looks like we might get some answers at last."


	4. Season Three

_Into the Fire_

He spoke with such passion, such _belief_ in his own words. The cries of _sholva!_ and _lies!_ did not deter him. She felt her own doubts waver in the face of Teal'c's strength of will.

_"Who will join me?"_ the former First Prime challenged, and almost she stepped forward...

But the power of speech was not enough. With a pang of regret, she retreated to the safety of darkness, the tired familiarity of servitude. Perhaps, one day, she would join Teal'c in his grandly hopeless quest; but for now, her will to live was stronger than the desire to rebel.

*  
 _Seth_

Tom stumbles and looks around, bewildered. It isn't as if he suddenly forgot what he's doing; he's fully aware that he's taking these three infidels to be justly killed for their wickedness. The only thing he doesn't understand is _why_ he's doing it.

"What happened?" he manages.

"It's okay," says the woman who just shot him. "We're here to help you."

Tom has no reason to believe her. But his own recent actions replay themselves in his head, and he realizes that he doesn't have a reason to believe anything, right now. So he might as well follow their lead.

*  
 _Fair Game_

"Code Nine!" Hammond shouted. With the Gateroom erupting in chaos, an officer appeared at his elbow, urging him to move. Shaken, Simms allowed himself to be taken to a more secure location.

He'd been standing right there, not three minutes before O'Neill disappeared. What power could reach 28 levels below the earth to snatch a person out of apparent safety?

He hadn't been exaggerating when he declared that he admired the SGC personnel and devoured their mission reports like bedtime stories. But now, waiting to hear what happened to O'Neill, Simms thought uneasily of monsters. They were part of stories, too.

*  
 _Legacy_

He'd held off on the latest round of meds, but MacKenzie wasn't taking any chances. He _wanted_ to believe that Jackson had miraculously recovered, of course. But it seemed too good to be true.

He had Jackson's own challenge of proof, though. It was a good place to start.

MacKenzie patiently navigated the passwords and code phrases that would get him direct access to the SGC's infirmary. Finally, he had Frasier on the line.

"MacKenzie," he identified himself crisply. "One quick question for you, Doctor -- is Teal'c all right?"

The too-long pause told him all he needed to know.

*  
 _Learning Curve_

Tomin looked up at his father's anxious gaze, trying to memorize his tender expression. He wondered if there was some primal instinct that would allow him to recall how much his father truly loved him, even when his nanites were removed and he joined the other Urrone in their everlasting _now._

"My dear son," Kanan said again. "Are you sure that you choose to undergo an early Averium?"

"Yes." Tomin stood a little straighter. "It would not be wise to wait six months. Orban needs this information processed as possible."

Kanan clasped his shoulder. "Very well, Tomin. They await you."

*  
 _Point of View_

He screamed his throat raw as agony raced along every nerve. He'd abandoned stoicism long ago.

The Jaffa lifted the torture stick, breaking contact and giving him a moment to breathe. Hammond swallowed bile, trying to muster the strength to endure another round.

The planet was overrun by Apophis' armies; there was no hope for rescue. As long as he resisted interrogation, though, the President was safe at the Beta Site. It was, perhaps, small comfort. But as the Jaffa jabbed him with the stick again and pain flooded his being, Hammond thought that he'd take whatever he could get.

*  
 _Deadman's Switch_

Boch, tensed and ready, watched as his quarry neared the perimeter of the force field. He'd baited the trap carefully: damaging the Tau'ri's spy drone so it could not fly, yet leaving its instrumentation intact so they could track it easily. There had been no guarantee that SG-1 would be sent to retrieve it, of course, but his sensors confirmed his hopes -- O'Neill, Carter, Jackson, and Teal'c had just stepped into the boundaries of his trap.

He counted off ten slow breaths before he activated the force field. For now, they were secure. Time for the real hunt to begin.

*  
 _Demons_

The Unas staggered, clawed fingers splayed uselessly in a futile effort to stem the leaking wounds. It fell to its knees in a puddle of green blood.

The Goa'uld, contemptuous, abandoned its dying host. It had served well enough these past centuries, but now it had failed. Time for a new one.

As it slithered out of the slack mouth, the Goa'uld sensed the approach of another potential host. Ah, the canon of the village. It would do nicely, as soon as the annoying offworlders were dealt with. The Goa'uld waited for the canon to venture closer, then leapt upward.

*  
 _Rules of Engagement_

Pain made thinking difficult, but as Rogers squinted at the portly man standing over his stretcher, a feeling of dread crept though him that had nothing to do with his fear of dying.

"My lord?" he stammered. "Where is Apophis?"

The truth slowly sank in. These people had not been sent by Apophis after all! He was in the hands of the enemy!

"Liars!" he screamed, thrashing against the restraining hands. "Traitors! You will be punished! He will avenge me!"

They strapped him down and took him off to be tortured. Rogers closed his eyes and silently vowed to resist.

*  
 _Forever in a Day_

When the explosions began, Kasuf's haggard face lightened with a grim smile. He well remembered the thunder of the Tau'ri's weapons that struck down Ra. Now Danyel and his people were coming to destroy this new demon that had stolen his daughter's body, then also stolen her son.

O'Neill released Kasuf and the others from their makeshift prison. But instead of fleeing to safety, Kasuf ran to warn Danyel. He understood the need to separate the face and voice of his beloved daughter from the demon that wore her body, but he worried that Danyel would only see his Sha're.

*  
 _Past and Present_

She opens her eyes slowly, blinking. She is lying down, with several people standing nearby. Frowning, she tries to remember what happened.

Her heartbeat accelerates as she realizes that doesn't remember anything. Not where she is, not why she is here. She doesn't recognize the woman who bends over to examine her, nor the two men standing silently nearby.

She doesn't even know her own name!

"It's all right, Kira," the woman says calmly, and Kira seizes frantically on the name as _something_. "You're doing fine."

"Now, anyway," one man adds quietly, and Kira wonders why he sounds so sad.

*  
 _Jolinar's Memories_

Blistering heat. Aching joints. A good friend curled up against his spinal cord, weak and wounded. Jacob huddled in his corner and tried to breathe through the pain.

When the soft sound of his daughter's voice first penetrated the fever haze, Jacob wasn't sure if he was dreaming or hallucinating. Discovering that Sam was real, actually _there_ on Netu, didn't seem like a better option.

"Are you _crazy_?" he breathed, torn between fear, exasperation, and (though he didn't want to admit it) relief.

"Apparently," O'Neill said dryly, and Selmac's faint huff of laughter gave Jacob fresh hope that they'd survive.

*  
 _The Devil You Know_

Aldwin picked himself up the floor and staggered towards the entrance, but the door didn't open. Teal'c must have locked it.

Aldwin hardly blamed him. He'd hated the necessity of sentencing two of his oldest and closest friends to death. He could only imagine how Teal'c felt about the impending loss of his own friends, the humans of SG-1.

He pressed his ear to the locked door, straining to hear the garbled crackle of their exchange. Were they really going to use the ring platform, despite the hopeless impossibility?

Shouting urgent advice, Aldwin hoped that Teal'c could achieve a miracle.

*  
 _Foothold_

Paul's eyes abruptly snapped open.

"What the...?" he muttered, then saw where he was. Only years of training --- and exposure to the everyday insanity that was the norm at the SGC -- kept him from screaming at the realization that he was suspended in a harness, dangling in midair, with no recollection of how he got there.

"Who's that?" a voice called sharply, and Paul sagged with relief when he identified Colonel O'Neill's voice. It wasn't just the thought of moral support, either. He might read the reports and deal with the aftermath, but O'Neill _knew_ how to handle the crazy.

*  
 _Pretense_

Klorel raged impotently, trapped and silenced by the device that the _cursed_ Tollans had used on its host. How _dare_ they interfere with its rightful claim on the Abydon! How could mere slaves even think that they could control the Goa'uld, their rightful gods and masters?

As the host babbled at the Tau'ri, cravenly begging for assistance, Klorel relaxed its coils and forced itself to be calm. Zipacna was coming and would arrange matters appropriately. The Tollan would pay for their interference when their planet was reduced to smoking ashes. Revenge, Klorel thought with fierce satisfaction, would be undeniably sweet.

*  
 _Urgo_

Three years of the unexpected taught Janet to take the most bizarre circumstances in stride. From the horror of Goa'uld infestation to the danger of alien bacteria to the whimsical oddities that teams brought back from off-world, she learned how to deal with each successive crisis with smooth efficiency.

This one, though, was beyond her. There seemed to be no way to remove Urgo from SG-1's collective perception.

She tried to console herself with the knowledge that they would figure it out eventually... and when they _did_ solve the problem, she'd be left with plenty of blackmail material.

*  
 _100 Days_

Death streaked out of the sky, the enchanting display of the fire rain of other years suddenly turned into destruction. They would all die!

"The caves!" blurted Garan, grabbing Naytha's arm. "Doctor Jackson said our ancestors survived there!"

"But some people talked about the Stone Circle..."

"I don't know about the Stone Circle. I do know the caves will be safe."

Naytha hesitated, afraid to venture out into the open. But as the fire rain thundered down and one great, smoking rock struck the ground with a force that knocked both of them off their feet, Naytha followed Garan's lead.

*  
 _Shades of Grey_

Makepeace raised his brows at the unexpected news. O'Neill, part of the team now? The guy might be a maverick, but going rogue?

When he thought about it, though, he realized that it made sense. O'Neill was a little crazy, but he was also a good leader. He wouldn't like seeing people lost for lack of intel or inadequate support. Like Makepeace, O'Neill must've concluded that keeping the world safe -- not to mention those under his command -- had to be their top priority.

"Once a Special Forces op," he muttered, allowing himself a twisted smile, and got back to work.

*  
 _New Ground_

Mallen ran, panting, away from Nyan's shouts and that horrible _thing_ and the Gateway, _no it can't be the Gateway it's an Optrican trick..._

She didn't stop until breath ran out and her side stabbed a painful protest. Then, wheezing slightly, she staggered to a nearby rock and collapsed onto it, trying to think.

Nyan was pure scientist, singlemindedly apolitical, and she'd always admired him for it. But Mallen knew that it was too dangerous to ignore all the implications. If this wasn't reported, Security would have them killed.

Reluctantly, she trudged back to their campsite to make the call.

*  
 _Maternal Instinct_

Major Coburn stepped warily through the Stargate, his team alert and ready. He radioed SG-1 for a sitrep.

To his surprise, O'Neill responded immediately, assuring him that they were secure. What happened to all those gliders and troops? Could the Jaffa have just disappeared?

Then the Stargate suddenly activated, and the dark sky lit with a streak of light heading their way. Gulping, Coburn reported this new development.

O'Neill stressed it: Don't engage. Put down your weapons. Get out of the way.

The streak came closer, and Coburn hurriedly complied with O'Neill's orders. He wasn't going to try fighting _light._

*  
 _Crystal Skull_

Nick glanced briefly at the apparition of his grandson standing in the corner, then looked away. "I miss him," he murmured.

Strange that he should envision Daniel dressed in army-like fatigues, his hair cut in an unfamiliar, short style. Perhaps it was because the military were coming to speak to him?

He tried to ignore ghostly Daniel as he spoke, focusing instead on the three strangers who entered the room.

_A friend of Daniel's_ , the doctor had said.

_Trust them,_ the image of Daniel insisted.

Nick wasn't sure. But when they spoke of another crystal skull, all doubts vanished.

*  
 _Nemesis_

Detect. Examine. Assess. Absorb. Expand. Increase.

Replicate.

Thousands of individual units -- only a small part of the single, cohesive whole that spanned the galaxies -- swarmed over the Asgard ship, endlessly communicating with the others and seamlessly working to achieve a single ultimate goal. More power. More materials. More units. More advanced technology.

_More._

At the sudden flare of energy in one section of the ship, multiple units disengaged from their current activities to investigate. Inconsequentials such as biological matter or non-powered alloys could be ignored, but high-energy output indicated sources of technology to access and adapt.

More.

Replicate.  



	5. Season Four

_Small Victories_

After two rings, Paul reached for the phone. "Davis," he said absently, eyes still focused on the SGC's completed mission report on the Replicators and Thor's ship. 

Then the hurried words of the caller sank in, and he swiveled away from his desk, gripping the receiver tightly.

"No further transmissions? Has anyone approached? The _Nemitz._ Yes, I see." He listened a moment longer, then sighed. "Right. We'll want to -- did you say _study_ them? Isn't that a bit... Yes, sir. I'm on it."

Paul hung up and grimaced at the now-defunct paperwork: not such a final report, after all.

*

_The Other Side_

Farrell struggled to maintain her patience as Doctor Jackson blathered about his own ancestry. At least he, unlike the Jaffa, was of pure blood. Yet his wit seemed somewhat... lacking. She felt almost as if she was speaking to a small child as she defined the Breeders in the simplest terms.

"No regard for genetic purity," she clarified.

"So they come in all shapes and sizes," Doctor Jackson finally said.

"Yes."

"And colors."

" _Yes_ ," Farrell repeated emphatically, relieved that he finally seemed to comprehend.

"Really?"

She eyed him and wondered if the Kindred had forgotten how to breed for intelligence.

*

_Upgrades_

Janie sized them up as she approached: two men, one woman. They seemed excited. Celebrating, perhaps? That was usually good for a generous tip.

"What can I get you?" she asked, her voice professionally bright.

"Ah -- three of the biggest steaks you've got," the older man said. "With everything. Rare. Baked potato."

"You got it," Janie said briskly, and turned to go.

"Excuse me!" he protested. "That was for _me_."

Janie's smile slipped a little as they upped the ante to four steaks apiece. Were they _serious_?

"And a diet Coke," the woman added.

Janie, incredulous, chose not to argue.

*

_Crossroads_

Hebron's grandparents still remembered life on Parabal before the Goa'uld came. They spoke wistfully of freedom of choice back then, when Parabal suffered no cruel master.

Hebron longed to bring that freedom back to his people. So when the Tok'ra appeared, whispering of rebellion, he was eager to join them.

The unusual request -- to host a symbiote that had rejected Goa'uld domination -- did make him hesitate. But Hebron admired the Tok'ra for refusing power when it would be so easy for them to claim it. The chance to do the same himself... that was surely worth the risk, wasn't it?

*

_Divide and Conquer_

_This must be what's it like to have a snake in the head._

The hysterical thought careened through Phil Graham's mind as he watched himself aim an unfamiliar weapon, the deadly beam sizzling into a Tok'ra's body. He saw himself kill Blasdale, shoot another Tok'ra, target a third.

O'Neill got his last victim out of the way, but Graham's relief was short-lived. He was aiming at O'Neill now, his left hand moving of its own volition.

"Stop," he begged, unsure if he meant himself or O'Neill. "Stop... stop me!"

His finger touched the ring, and the world went white.

*

_Window of Opportunity_

Malakai gripped the unfamiliar weapon, regarding Doctor Jackson with regret.

At the team's initial arrival on the planet, he'd feared potential interference. Couldn't they have waited one more day to explore?

When Major Carter spoke cautiously of radiation, Malakai hoped that they would merely deploy their instruments and leave, never knowing that time itself would retreat and their recordings vanish. But they were still _here,_ and it was almost too late!

Ironically, all his efforts to conquer time came down to scant, precious seconds. But he couldn't wait any longer.

"I have to act _now_ ," he said apologetically, and fired.

*

_Watergate_

The guardians, grouped together, mounted steady, increasing pressure on the invading organism. Finally, the shell cracked, leaving the interior exposed for final elimination. Their world would be safe!

But analysis of the vulnerable interior was puzzling. A bubble existed there: arid, void of all life. And yet...

Why would the shell create a bubble within if there wasn't something to protect? 

A tentacle extruded, making tentative contact. It wasn't sentience as they understood it. But there was... something.

Further exploration was certainly warranted before any final decision could be reached. They reached into the cracked shell, determined to understand more.

*

_The First Ones_

The First dismissed him as too young and weak for _sha'shak_ , but he would _prove_ his worth! 

Traveling far from the safety of home in search of prey, he crept past the Dark Lake. His daring was rewarded when he discovered strange new creatures that none in his tribe had ever seen.

From the crude tools they used to bite the earth, he knew they were primitive dirt dwellers. Was their flesh succulent, beneath those soft pink skins and green hides? Even if not, the First would have to concede his triumph when he brought one back to the cave.

*

_Scorched Earth_

He sprinted eastwards, terror spurring him onwards even as his lungs burned. He steadfastly refused to look over his shoulder, where the horror of that _thing_ floated in the sky, raining death on the village and surrounding lands.

By the time he reached the closest settlement, his breath came in stuttering gasps and his legs trembled beneath him. "Help!" he gasped, staggering toward the concerned faces. "Help me, please!"

They misunderstood, trying to ease him to the ground. Didn't they know there was no time to waste?

"It's so big," he stammered. "It destroyed our whole village... you must flee!"

*

_Beneath the Surface_

Rammen shifted uneasily as the Earth soldier glowered at him.

"You say O'Neill went out on the glacier with his entire team?"

"Major Carter wanted to explore," Rammen lied, dutifully following Calder's instructions. "Colonel O'Neill agreed. We warned them it was dangerous to go out on the ice, but they did not listen."

"Listen." The soldier stepped a pace closer, and Rammen resisted the impulse to back away. "I know O'Neill. He would never endanger his people like that!"

"I did not see them go," Rammen said, which was truthful enough. He wished this Major Griff would go away, too.

*

_Point of No Return_

"Look, the Cloverleaf doesn't want any trouble," the manager began, looking uncomfortable.

"There won't be any," the colonel assured him. "We just want to keep an eye on this fellow. Murray here will be behind the counter; we'll have the rest of the team outside. Smooth and quiet, I promise."

The manager shuffled his papers, then looked sidelong at the impassive, impressive figure standing silently at the end of his desk. "It's one thing to let you install that vid camera you want," he said plaintively, "but..."

"Yes?" 

The manager swallowed, then finally blurted, "This man of yours isn't union."

*

_Tangent_

Despite the quelling looks he shot at an unabashed O'Neill, Vidrine inwardly shared the colonel's excitement. An orbital defense craft! The small fighter plane was sleek and deadly. If Major Carter's confident assertions were correct, Earth had developed a potential weapon against a Goa'uld invasion from space. 

"What's next?" he asked, and listened to the proposal for an air-to-air live fire test with the X-301. 

He glanced at O'Neill's eager face, then surveyed the Jaffa, whose impassive expression could not quite mask the gleam in his dark eyes. "Light that candle, boys," he ordered, and smiled openly back.

*

_The Curse_

He was somewhere beyond pain, tasting grit and dust and blood. Movement was impossible. Then he heard voices, and hands touched him. He moaned and cringed, expecting a fresh assault of agony.

"Steven! Steven, it's me."

"Daniel?" he whispered.

"What happened?" The voice was urgent, anxious.

Steven tried to answer, to admit that Daniel had been right, but other hands were moving him now, and he cried out in protest.

"What about the jar?" Daniel pressed.

"Huh?" Steven blinked heavy eyelids and tried to understand the question. No Osiris jar, Daniel. Just the amulet, the key, the mystery... and _her._

*

_The Serpent's Venom_

Rak'nor's eyes were wide as he watched Terok rage at his inability to break Teal'c. Even now, after all the torture, consigned to be taken to Apophis for the ultimate torment, Teal'c _still_ fought back! 

Then Terok stalked forward and drove all the force of his hate into one final attack.

"My lord," Rak'nor stammered, seeing the deadly light pulse against Teal'c's forehead, "you are _killing_ him!"

"I will not be denied the satisfaction of killing him at least _once_!" Terok roared.

For a long, anguished moment, Rak'nor still hesitated... and then took the first step towards life and freedom.

*

_Chain Reaction_

Tessa frowned at the man standing next to the open car door. "We're not supposed to get into cars with strangers," she repeated, gripping Kayla's hand. 

"Of course not," the man said, removing his sunglasses and smiling at her. Tessa thought it was supposed to be a kind smile, but the man didn't seem to know how to do it properly.

"But I've got your grandfather's password," the man continued. "It's _onion timbales_ this week, isn't it?"

"Yes," Tessa admitted grudgingly.

"Then if you'll get in, I'll take you home. And you can tell your grandfather how well you... listened."

*

_2010_

Walter knew that most personnel didn't take his job very seriously. Oh, they appreciated a familiar face at the controls, but they regarded him as a glorified P.A. system, calling out the chevrons or announcing incoming wormholes. They didn't appreciate the constant stress; even at calmer times, there was no such thing as routine with the Stargate. 

Walter usually took events in stride, but it was unquestionably creepy to see SG-1's code on his screen when they were all standing _right there_. Bloodstained notes didn't make him feel any better.

"Removing P4C-970," he agreed fervently. "Yes, _sir._ "

*

_Absolute Power_

When the _chappa'ai_ flared unexpectedly into life, the Abydon guards were wary. But none knew how to react to the wind that blew out of the _chappa'ai_ , wending through pathways until it gusted out to the desert. Two of the boys ran after it, emerging from the pyramid in time to see the air currents coil and twist, forming a sandstorm before their astonished eyes.

The sandstorm whirled and danced unabated until Kasuf, hurriedly informed, came to see for himself.

_"Sha're,"_ the wind breathed at him. _"Sha're."_

The sandstorm whirled away into the distance, leaving them standing still and silent.

*

_The Light_

Loren huddled in the corner of the small room he used for sleeping, clamping his hands over his ears to block out the sound of distant voices.

People again, after so long! They were _loud_. They were scary! 

What would they do to him? Could they _know_ what he'd done?

He cowered down further, shaking. Please, please, let them just go away! 

It got quiet after a while, and Loren, cautiously reconnoitering, saw four men standing in the Light Room, as mesmerized as his mother and father had been. He crept away, shuddering. It was all going to happen _again..._

*

_Prodigy_

Babysitting geeks was never Griff's first choice, but SG teams went where they were ordered. Still, he was glad to see O'Neill arrive to take the next rotation.

"Colonel," Griff said in casual greeting.

"Major," O'Neill nodded. "Report."

"Oh, we've had a pretty thrilling week," Griff drawled, ticking off the highlights. "Two days ago, Doctor Thompson lost his glasses..."

O'Neill, looking a bit sour, officially relieved him of duty just in time for Thompson to show up and start complaining again. Offering O'Neill an unrepentant grin, Griff deftly sidestepped the scientist and headed for the Stargate. Better SG-1 than him!

*

_Entity_

Feeling somber, Siler directed the two airmen to lay down explosives in an efficient, deadly pattern. They'd lost Major Carter; the least they could do was make sure that the alien entity never had the chance to threaten anyone ever again.

They were almost finished when the first whine of awakening circuitry alerted him. Lights flickered and steadied into a regular glow as the MALP hummed back to full power.

_Uh oh._

"Get back," Siler ordered sharply, feeling his jaw tense as he watched the MALP shift. "Call the control room and warn the general -- that _thing_ is back again."

*

_Double Jeopardy_

Harlan checked his internal chrono again. So late. Still no sign of them!

He worried for his friends. Yes. They said they must help, they must fight, and Captain Carter was so clever, so very clever to invent the power packs. 

But so late! What if they needed help?

He wished he could help, but he didn't know how. He was not even sure what they did on their missions...

He brightened at a sudden thought. He didn't know what they did, but _they_ knew what they did! He could ask _them_! Well, their human thems. They would help. Yes!

*

_Exodus_

Tanith bristled at the sudden appearance of the _shol'va_. It was bad enough these Tok'ra fools dared to lock him up, but to be forced to suffer Teal'c's presence...!

"I am here to to deliver your sentence," the _shol'va_ declared.

"Death, I suppose?" Tanith mocked. It couldn't be. Surely the puling Tok'ra were too interested in saving his pitiful host.

Unbelievably, they _did_ intend to kill him! Dismayed, Tanith deliberately provoked Teal'c so that the Jaffa would leave. He needed time to plan his next move. If the Tok'ra meant to execute him, it was time for Tanith to escape.

*


	6. Season Five

_Enemies_

Apophis absently stroked the metal prosthesis on his face, waiting for the cycle to complete. It galled him to use such drastic measures. The sarcophagus was his -- a totem of his power, his immortality. He disliked defiling it with the likes of a Jaffa.

But this Jaffa was different. He was only a tool, like all of his kind, but the scope of the impact...

The ultimate symbol of rebellion's failure. _Yes._

(And if Apophis also needed Teal'c to survive, to return to his own galaxy and power base, there was no need to dwell on that. None at all.)

*

_Threshold_

"Should I be offended that Teal'c thinks I'm so gullible?" MacKenzie asked dryly.

"You should not," Bra'tac replied. "This is not the Teal'c that knew you and the Tau'ri for four of your years. This..." His mouth twisted. "This is the Teal'c that _Apophis_ imagines, contemptuous of human slaves."

"I see." MacKenzie looked thoughtful. "How do you propose we confront him, Master Bra'tac?"

"Apophis has convinced Teal'c that the Tau'ri are fools, but he also would have cautioned him against me." Bra'tac's expression turned grimly vicious. "An unexpected challenge might crack this false mask. Let us plan our confrontation accordingly."

*

_Ascension_

Hammond closed the briefing room door.

"Sit down," he suggested.

Reynolds almost collapsed into a chair. "I killed him, sir," he muttered. "An ally. He saved our lives out there, and I killed him."

"From what Major Carter says, he's not precisely dead." Hammond sighed. "She gave me her full report. Orlin essentially attacked you, acting without explanation or warning. You acted to the best of your ability, given the information you possessed at the time."

"Yes, sir, but..."

"Missions through the Stargate are never easy, son," Hammond said. "You do your best, and more. That's all anyone can ask."

*

_The Fifth Man_

"They were... good people," Kiyayae said thoughtfully. "Very, very attached to weapons. But good people, nonetheless."

"And they protected you?"

"Yes. They did not have to help me, but they did. " Kiyayae hesitated. "O'Neill spoke of a possible friendship. But I do not know if they could defend us from a determined assault."

The Reol leader's cranial tentacles flailed with agitation. "It seems so tempting, Kiyayae, to believe that the galaxy has more than enemies that want to use us. But there are so few of us left." Tentacles drooped sadly. "We cannot risk it. We must bury the Stargate."

*

_Red Sky_

"On behalf of the entire Stargate team, I would like to register a formal protest, sir," said Dr. Johnson. "Major Carter should've been informed of this meeting."

"Your protest is noted," Colonel Ryder said coolly. "But it makes little difference. We're not railroading the major here."

"You're not?"

"No. She may be the highest ranking military member of this scientific team, but the responsibility is not hers alone. She isn't here because she's too closely involved in this incident." Ryder leaned forward. "Too many Stargate protocols and safeties bypassed means our own people are at risk. We need solutions _now._ "

*

_Rite of Passage_

She'd grown to hate this place, this mocking testimony to both her long-term project and her brilliant plan to destroy the Tau'ri with their own misplaced compassion. But as a fugitive from the System Lords, her experiments in disarray, Nirrti had little choice but to remain in hiding.

A sudden intrusion startled her. Quickly withdrawing to a safe position, Nirrti prudently activated one of her prototype cloaking devices so she could observe the strangers in secret.

...No, _not_ strangers! The despised Tau'ri -- SG-1!

Overhearing their coversation, hope suddenly spiked. Perhaps there _was_ something left to salvage, after all.

*

_Beast of Burden_

Lurka should've been doing his chores, especially with Pater abed and groaning. But he sulked next to the farm pump, ignoring Beast's patient nudges to help water the waiting stock.

"Lurka," Mater called gently from the doorway.

The boy spun, fists clenched, and burst out, "They were _grown-ups_! Don't they know they mustn't steal? That they mustn't _hurt_?"

"They're safely locked up now," Mater soothed him. "They can't hurt anyone else, and your Pater will be fine."

"Are you sure?" Lurka sniffed.

"Promise," she said firmly. "Now, help Beast fill the water troughs, and we'll all sit down to dinner."

*

_The Tomb_

Svetlana ignored Zukhov's best glare and returned a cool gaze of her own. "Try to ignore your instincts, Colonel," she said, "and _listen_ to this female scientist who has gone through the Stargate and dealt with the SGC. It may save your life."

To the man's credit, his expression softened a little. "Very well, Doctor Markov. What do you advise?"

"Don't be fooled by surface impressions," Svetlana replied promptly. "The Americans are both reckless _and_ intelligent. Be wary." She swallowed, thinking of friends and colleagues killed by sentient water, and added, "And please, Colonel -- try to bring Britsky back alive."

*

_Between Two Fires_

Humming softly to herself, Rellin carefully trimmed the hedges to be both mathematically and aesthetically pleasing. She stepped back a pace to examine her work and gave a nod of satisfaction. Yes, this blended with --

Her train of thought was abruptly shattered by the _boom_ that seemed to crack the sky wide open. She stared, horrified, as ships suddenly appeared in the sky. Enemies attacking? But how...?

The first lances of light speared downwards, explosions shaking the ground beneath her feet. Rellin ran towards the nearest building, afraid that safety would only be an illusion. What was happening on Tollana?

*

_2001_

Kehl watched, head cocked to one side, as the two strangers from Earth conferred over the iron root. After a few moments, he gave a careless shrug of his shoulders and strolled away.

He didn't really understand their wariness of the Aschen. For as long as Kehl could remember, the Aschen had taken care of himself _and_ his people. What more could anyone want?

Humming tunelessly, Kehl headed back to his cabin. Odd notions they might have, but Daniel and Teal'c seemed capable enough. Likely they'd appreciate that jug of sweet water he'd promised them. He'd best get it ready.

*

_Desperate Measures_

All that time spent curing this tiresome host's body, and it couldn't escape this slave building? Preposterous!

It descended another flight of stairs, emerging in a dark tunnel. Here, perhaps, there might be an exit. But a figure barred its way: one of the humans, armed with a primitive projectile that might yet damage the newly-healed body. It could not risk the danger. 

"Shoot me, and you'll kill the host," it tried, hoping for foolish sentiment to cause hesitation.

Then another human appeared, apparently not sentimental at all. Hmmm -- this one might have potential. The Goa'uld followed Simmons out.

*

_Wormhole X-treme!_

"I _know_ you can do this, Lloyd," his backer said impatiently. "You don't need more funding."

"But I _do_! Really!" Martin almost wailed. "I can't produce the special effects you want without --"

"Of course you can," the mogul snapped. "I saw that final episode of _Wormhole X-treme!_ Honestly, you can't win yourself an Emmy and expect that people won't _notice._ "

"There were freak weather patterns involved," Martin said, knowing how lame it sounded. "Sir, I can create an extravaganza for you! But I'll need just a little --"

"That's the budget, Lloyd. Take it of leave it."

Martin sagged, defeated.

*

_Proving Ground_

Hammond had gone to talk to the trainees, but Kerrigan remained glued to the monitors, watching the proceedings.

He was pleased with how well they'd done so far, making _most_ of the right choices. Kerrigan knew it was a risky business, choosing these young officers to serve at Stargate Command; too few of them were good enough to make the cut. But these four looked like they were going to pass.

The warning klaxon sounded, and Kerrigan leaned forward in anticipation. This was it -- the last challenge for Elliot. Time to see if the boy _really_ had what it takes.

*

_48 Hours_

Tanith's eyes flashed with malevolent glee as he guided the _al'kesh_ into the air. At last! Teal'c had been a tiresome thorn in his side for too long. Now, the Jaffa and his feeble allies would meet the death they deserved!

His loyal minons, Tanith knew, would pilot their gliders and strafe the ground before the _chappa'ai_. Doubtless they could easily kill Teal'c and the Tau'ri. But Tanith wanted to claim these deaths himself.

The ship cleared the trees; Tanith espied his quarry. He sneered, seeing the _shol'va_ turn and raise his weapon in defiance. As if Teal'c could possib--

*

_Summit_

He'd been drifting, semi-conscious, for so long now. Lost. Bewildered.

Mourning his host, his friend.

Now crystal shattered and he was hurled from wet warmth into sharp-edged chaos. His senses were dimmed without a host, but he could hear screams and groans. This must be some kind of disaster, and he needed to...

To what, then? What could he do in this feeble state, without even a host?

A scrabbling sound at the edge of hearing made him twist around. He scented an unblended human, saw the twitching hand gesture for help.

Lantash hesitated, then slowly moved forward.

*

_Last Stand_

Orkum and his squad flung the disheveled Tok'ra at their master's feet, an offering and a triumph.

Zipacna's eyes glowed his approval. Secure in his might and power, he strolled over to the prone figure and prodded it with an elegant shoe. "I sense you are Tok'ra," he murmured, "yet you wear the costume of the despised Tau'ri. Which part of you will suffer more, I wonder? Tell me of the formula, and you will die relatively quickly."

The Tok'ra rolled over, gasping, fists clenched in pain. No, not pain -- a faint crunch --

Orkum suddenly found it hard to breathe.

*

_Failsafe_

There was a kind of horrified fascination in watching the numbers spin away into oblivion.

"Twenty seconds to failsafe," Paul murmured. The moments ticked past with finality. Nothing could stop the asteroid from hitting Earth now.

"Very well," Hammond said, and Paul couldn't help but marvel at the immense _calmness_ of the man. "Take your positions with the last Alpha group. That's an _order_ , Sergeant," he added pointedly when Harriman moved to protest.

Paul couldn't help himself. "General..." he started, but Hammond shook his head gently, firmly. He was still in command.

"Good luck," Paul managed, and obeyed Hammond's instructions.

*

_Warrior_

Or'nac watched with approval as Rak'nor fired at the target. Two strikes at such a distance in three attempts was a sign of a firm eye and a steady hand.

Then the female Tau'ri stepped forward. Or'nac felt his lip curl. Surely they did not expect a _woman_ to challenge Rak'nor's impressive feat?

"Hey, you!" one of the Tau'ri shouted. "In the skirt!"

Or'nac blinked. Was that... an insult?

"Get that target swinging a little," the man called. 

Instinctively, Or'nac looked to Kytano. The great Jaffa leader seemed calm, almost amused. With an inward shrug, Or'nac obeyed the strange instruction.

*

_Menace_

Westin's radio crackled. "The cameras in Isolation Room One are offline," a voice said crisply. It was Kramer, working the security cameras this shift.

"We're on it," Westin assured her. But when he swiped his card to open the robot's door, nothing happened. What was wrong?

He gestured to Branson to look through the observation windows upstairs. Branson mounted the steps, then...

"They're in here!" Branson shouted, his voice suddenly high with terror. Westin raced after him, rifle in his hands, and arrived in time to see an insect-like creature of _living metal_ launch itself at Branson's unprotected back.

*

_The Sentinel_

Hammond stared at the report on the rogue NID members. O'Neill stood at attention, waiting his decision regarding taking Greaves and Kershaw back to Latona.

Hammond thought of Maybourne, who had also been asked to fix NID damage and used the opportunity to engineer his own escape. He didn't want a repeat of that disaster.

Still, Greaves reminded Hammond more of Makepeace than Maybourne: passionately committed to protecting the planet, not just self-serving aggrandizement of power. And lives were at stake here -- not just the Latonans, but also SG-9.

"All right, Colonel," he finally said. "You have a go."

 

_Meridian_

Jonas paced in agitation, clutching at his hair. This was wrong, wrong! _He_ had frozen in sheer terror, while Dr. Jackson had saved all their lives. And now they were blaming Jackson for it!

The excitement over the naquadria's potential. The dismissal of the ethical implications. O'Neill's fierce challenge: _I guarantee you it'll never have the effect you're hoping for until you use it at least **once.**_

He'd tried to speak up; he'd been shouted down. He was the youngest, easily dismissed. No one would believe him!

 _Except the Tau'ri,_ a voice whispered in his mind. 

Jonas swallowed, seeking courage.

*

_Revelations_

Osiris smiled down at his captive, allowing his host's eyes to glow. Three out of four of the infamous SG-1! Carter refused to betray Dr. Jackson's location, but punishment would soon convince her otherwise. 

He toyed with the Tau'ri woman, enjoying the spasms of agony that twisted her face. Finally, he raised a languid hand, releasing her from her torture momentarily.

"Once more," he purred. "Where is Doctor Jackson?" 

"He's dead," Carter gasped.

Osiris felt his own face twist. He told himself he wasn't reacting to his host's distress -- he _wasn't_. "You're lying!" he snarled furiously, and renewed his assault.


	7. Season Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite my dislike for the Kelownans, I will admit that the drabble for _Shadowplay_ is one of my favorites.

_Redemption, part one_

Angrily, Chekov wondered if Russia would've been better served _without_ the Stargate.

They'd lost many good men, including those on that doomed joint mission. Then Jackson and Davis came begging help, even as they practically admitted the SGC wasn't honoring their agreement. When Jackson talked him into lending the DHD, he'd gone along to supervise -- only to watch its destruction. McKay's tutelage in naquadah technology was definitely a poor exchange.

Now, they rejected adding a Russian to SG-1... and Hammond allowed O'Neill to insult not only Chekov, but his entire people!

The intel about the X-302 was the last straw.

*

_Redemption, part two_

When a frustrated Ry'ac demanded to know how the others remained unscathed, Father asserted that evasion required skill. Master Bra'tac, however, wryly added that luck, too, was a factor.

Ry'ac understood -- they would need both to succeed in this mission and save their Tau'ri allies.

He hated being left behind, but his symbiote could only heal him so fast. Oh, if only he hadn't been wounded!

Then it was _his_ turn to demonstrate both skill and luck to save his father, his mentor, and Earth. Angling his ship in a smooth curve, he aimed for the mysterious device and fired.

*

_Descent_

Paul stood at attention, eyes staring straight ahead, his posture impeccable.

"Permission to join the mission, sir?" he said formally.

"At ease, Major." Hammond seemed almost amused. "If you can't go through the Stargate, going into space is the next best thing -- is that it?"

Paul allowed himself a smile. "I'm the official laison of the Pentagon to the SGC, sir. A mission involving SG-1 _and_ General Carter, right here in our own solar system, seems to fit well enough."

Hammond chuckled. "Well, you've done the training; I know you can be useful. Very well, Major. You have a go."

*

_Frozen_

After years of videoconferencing, it was a pleasure to finally meet Sam Carter face-to-face. Janet Frasier, with all her competence and wicked sense of humor, was an unexpected and delightful surprise.

They'd had a wonderful evening of conversation the night before, but now, all three of them were wholly focused on their mysterious artifact and the sheer impossibility of _living tissue_.

Delta wave readings from the EEG. Rising temperature. No sign of frostbite (how, _how_?). A heartbeat!

"Not dead until you're _warm_ and dead," Michaels muttered, and wondered if the Stargate really held marvels greater than this one.

*

_Nightwalkers_

Sudden light intrudes into wet, warm darkness. It seethes, squirming among its spawnmates. 

When cold metal seizes it and lifts it into the bitter aridity of air, it writhes in instinctive protest, squealing aloud. Then it calms, merely curling in on itself in anticipation. Surely this means that it has been found a host! It will be good to burrow under skin and assert its control.

 _There._ And _there_. So much better than the drifting aimlessness of waiting with the others. One final link to the nervous system, and...

The connection fails. Fails! How could that be?

Blocked.

_Blocked._

No!!!!!

*

_Abyss_

"Is it you?" Shallan asked, confused.

She knew the Gao'auld could change their outer aspects, even as they retained their divinity. No good _lo'taur_ could fail to understand the need to instant obedience and obeisance, no matter what form their masters chose to take.

But she had not thought that Kanan might do the same.

"Come on," urged the one who claimed he was Kanan. "We can escape!"

"If I leave with you, he will _know_!" she protested, frightened.

"You must come," Kanan insisted. "Hurry!"

Uncertain, uneasy, Shallan allowed herself to be tugged forward. Perhaps they could escape, after all.

*

_Shadowplay_

"The Tau'ri are offering us their help," the communications officer reported. By dint of sheer will, she managed to keep her voice free of sarcasm.

"How interesting." Vanis leaned back. "And what generous terms are they offering this time, Marlis?"

Marlis glanced down at the decoded message. "Assistance in shielding, Minister, to protect our scientists from radiation."

Hale snorted. "The Tau'ri are getting tiresome. I grow weary of their insistence that only they are advanced enough to deal with naquadriah."

"They think us children," Vanis agreed sourly. "I wonder how they would feel, if others treated them with such condescension."

*

_The Other Guys_

The staff weapon fired and Khonsu collapsed, his body suddenly aflame with agony.

He heard Her'ak denounce him as Tok'ra and gloat over his imminent demise. Khonsu -- no, he was _Zeram_ , and if he was dying, he would allow himself to think of his true self -- Zeram communed rapidly with his host, a regretful final parting.

_We've had a long journey together, my friend. I'm sorry that I've brought you to the end of it._

_We both knew the risk,_ his host assured him, his mental voice fond. _At least we're here together, at the end._

The staff weapon flared white.

*

_Allegiance_

As Malek and Selmac spoke with O'Neill, Ocker fought for calm.

He knew the Council valued the Tau'ri alliance. But this O'Neill had used Kanan as a glorified healing device before losing him to Ba'al. O'Neill had also been directly involved in the loss of Zeram, another Tok'ra operative recently murdered... by a Jaffa.

Selmac had cautioned diplomacy, explaining that the Tau'ri deeply resented Kanan's co-opting of his erstwhile host. But as O'Neill insultingly compared the nascent Jaffa rebels to the ages-long struggle of the Tok'ra, Ocker had to remind his host to keep his fists unclenched.

*

_The Cure_

Janet brooded in troubled silence. Where should her Hippocratic Oath lead her?

Sentient beings enslaved, offspring harvested and cannibalized. Even if that sentience was Goa'uld, how could they justify their actions?

She remembered Sam, late one night after they'd shared a bottle of vodka, telling her about Daniel's actions on Chulak. How long ago it seemed! The lines had only blurred further since then.

She sighed, looking down at her results. The need to report failure to General Hammond should make her feel better -- they couldn't use the tretonin, anyway. But Janet wished she could find the right answer... _somewhere._

*

_Prometheus_

Julia and the Air Force guy, who didn't seem to have any rank, sat together on the floor. Al tried to ignore her reproachful gaze as he paced aimlessly back and forth.

After several moments, Julia put on her most earnest television expression. "Al, why are you doing this?"

Al dismissed the slight niggle from his conscience. "They're paying me," he said, shrugging a little.

Her expression shifted to petulance. "We're supposed to be friends!"

 _Really,_ Julia. So naive? He clarified dryly, "They're paying me a _lot._ "

How much did she think he earned, anyway? And this was tax-free!

*

_Unnatural Selection_

Time twisted, reset, accelerated, slowed. They learned, absorbed, replicated.

Link upon link formed: physical, neural, seamlessly connected into a unique whole. Their enemies had gathered them here to trap them, foolishly underestimating the sheer power of _many_. Billions upon billions of individual bits operated with uniform thought, choosing their own path of evolution.

Clearly, the female of the species was most powerful, or Reece would not appear so. It would be disrespectful if First were to claim equal status to the Progenitor. Deferentially, First was made male, with only Second taking female form.

Always logical, they alternated: Third. Fourth... Fifth.

*

_Sight Unseen_

The formality of the occasion was underscored by the high-ranking attendees in dress uniform. The officers rose to their feet and saluted as General Hammond entered the room.

"At ease," he said crisply. "Be seated." 

Once they'd settled, Hammond began. "Our purpose is to discuss the opening of a new off-world base, tentatively called the Gamma Site. All technological and medical artifacts uncovered by SG teams will be brought there instead of Earth." 

Hammond looked levelly at his attentive audience. "We can no longer risk exposure and panic on a world-wide scale. Let's keep our planet safe."

*

_Smoke and Mirrors_

"This isn't possible," Paul said numbly.

"I assure you, Major Davis," the district attorney said sharply, "no one has tampered with this footage."

Mesmerized, Paul ran the video again. He'd watched in O'Neill in action and knew his history. The colonel had the skills, the experience, the capability.

It even _looked_ like him, but... no.

"I'll take this information to the Pentagon," Paul said aloud, retreating behind smooth phrasing and bland stonewalling. "And the ballistics report, of course."

"Of course," agreed the DA, showing his teeth in a tight grin. "In the meantime, though, we're taking Jack O'Neill into custody."

*

_Paradise Lost_

Rath gave Jolen a mental nudge as the communicator sounded.

 _It's the Tau'ri again_ , Rath noted. _O'Neill must still be missing._

Jolen smoothly took over control of their body and opened communications. "This is Jolen," he said. "How can the Tok'ra assist the Tau'ri?"

"Jolen, this is Major Carter." Selmac's host's daughter sounded unusually stressed, even allowing for the blurring caused by the long-distance transmission. "We have another request regarding Colonel O'Neill."

"Major, I assure you that --"

"I know," she interrupted, "but we have new information. We think they were transported to the planet's moon. Could you try again?"

*

_Metamorphosis_

Alebran stumbled between the Tau'ri soldiers as they took him through the _chappa'ai._ He hoped he could convince their leader to take the threat seriously. Nirrti must be stopped, quickly!

When he'd gasped his way through the shimmering pathway, shivering from both outer and inner cold, he was dismayed at the open hostility and skepticism of the other Tau'ri. He fought to remain calm and rational so he could convey the depth of their danger. But when he could feel the final change beginning, when he felt his very insides liquify and melt away, he panicked and begged for death.

*

_Disclosure_

Chekov found he was almost enjoying himself as he deliberately spun the most flimsy of cover stories for the ambassadors of France, China, and Great Britain. His face remained deadpan as he blandly parroted the same tired phrases and excuses that he'd used so often.

Major Davis had quietly briefed him on the day's planned events, and Chekov knew the fabrications would be completely unnecessary in just a few more minutes. But after years of frustrating obfuscation and diplomatic deceptions with foreign representatives, there was satisfaction in knowing that these half-believable lies would soon be replaced by unbelievable truth.

*

_Forsaken_

SG-15 fanned out through the Gate, taking defensive positions. Pierce flashed a hand signal at O'Sullivan, who quickly checked the DHD and gave the "working" sign before fading into the undergrowth.

Once the site was secure, Pierce got on his radio to O'Neill. "We have the Gate covered, sir," he reported. 

"Good," O'Neill drawled, then warned him of their current threat: an unknown number of aliens, armed and hostile.

"We've got your back, Colonel," Pierce promised, and signed off. 

Aliens, eh? Non-humans, then, but not Goa'uld, either. Should be interesting. 

"Be ready," he murmured, and settled in to wait.

*

_The Changeling_

When Jacob handed the previous vial of tretonin to Dr. Fraiser, Selmac stirred in his mind.

_Are you sure it wouldn't be better to tell them?_

_No,_ Jacob said firmly. _Not now._ Not while Teal'c's and Bra'tac's lives hung in the balance.

Later, Jacob thought, he would quietly warn Hammond that some of the Tok'ra preferred to keep the tretonin within their sole jurisdiction, to be doled out to those Jaffa who accepted the Tok'ra's leadership. He would tell Hammond how he and Selmac and some others had fought against the policy, and won the argument... for now, anyway.

_Later._

*

_Memento_

"Chairman Ashwan, we're picking up a signal!" cried one of the technicians.

"Let's hear it," Ashwan said tensely, exchanging a grim look with Kelfass.

With mounting incredulity, they listened to the voice from space that begged for clemency.

"They wipe out our electrical systems and they claim it's an _accident_?" Kelfass was disgusted. "This is a clear act of war, Chairman!"

Ashwan frowned. "But it _is_ possible that it was unintentional." He hesitated, then made up his mind. "We will remain cautious, but let's not destroy them just yet. Visitors from a different world...! I think it's worth the risk."

*

_Prophecy_

Janet is too pragmatic -- and the health of her charges too important -- to resent the need to call in specialists when the situation demanded it. The Stargate brings complications: medical mysteries, alien bacteria, mental manipulation. When circumstances go beyond her own skills, she hammers on Hammond's door herself to demand that he get the top consultants, the best surgeons.

This time, it's an brain tumor, caused by alien technology. Sandy Van Densen is the top neuro-surgeon in the country. Her security level isn't technically high enough, but Janet calls in whatever markers she can to save Jonas Quinn's life.

*

_Full Circle_

Kasuf remembers personally leading the rebellion against Ra, in the days when both Danyel and Sha'uri lived. He is older now, wearied by pain and loss; and despite his reluctance to confess to any weakness, he delegates the battle to Skaara and leads the young and infirm to the sanctuary of the Kalima caves.

They are well over the horizon when battle joins -- far enough away to be thought safe. But like all others on Abydos, Kasuf witnesses the great spear of light that slashes downward from the heavens and sees the great shock wave of destruction roaring towards them.


	8. Season Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these is shameless wish-fulfillment on my part. Those of you who know me well will have no trouble guessing which one. :)

**_Fallen_ **

The last time Reynolds saw Jackson, it had been five days before his death.

He'd heard the stories, of course, but even the wildest tales of Abydos and Anubis never tried to suggest that Jackson wasn't still dead. Yet here he stood: alive, breathing, in the flesh!

Reynolds didn't often blink at what they encountered through the Stargate (at least, he hadn't for years.) This time, though...

 _We've got the craziest job in the universe_ , he thought, feeling an incredulous grin spread across his face as he stepped forward to welcome Daniel Jackson back to the world of the living.

*

**_Homecoming_ **

The Jaffa concept of honor has always been two-pronged: the honor of one's lord, and the honor of one's own self. The first, of course, superseded the second. _Always._

But now Oshu stood, conflicted and irresolute. Where was Lord Yu's honor? His word _now_ , or the word he had formerly given, when his mind was clear? And if Oshu's own honor was upheld by the latter while the former left it in tatters, was it the greater glory to ignore his own honor in deference to his lord's?

Oshu, unsure of the right answer, could not meet Teal'c's eyes.

*

**_Fragile Balance_ **

"Cheyenne Mountain."

"Colonel Jack O'Neill. I don't have the extension, but he works in Deep Space Radar Telemetry." He recited the painfully obvious cover story in a calm, monotonous voice.

"Your name, sir?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Harlan Beck."

There were several clicks, then a strange voice: "Hammond."

"I'm trying to reach Jack O'Neill."

"O'Neill isn't... available right now, Colonel. You're speaking to his commanding officer."

"I apologize, sir. It's unimportant - a personal matter."

"I'll let him know you called." A pause. "When I see him next."

"Don't bother, sir. I just wanted to pass on greetings from his nephew."

"His _what?_ "

*

**_Orpheus_ **

Unlike most physiotherapists working with the civilian population, Sheri rarely had to bully her patients into doing their required exercises. She was more used to stubborn soldiers going far beyond her instructions in an attempt to restore themselves to full mobility as quickly as possible. It wasn't just routine machismo, either; the women in the military were often even more determined than their male counterparts. Frequently, Sheri needed to force patients to recognize that doing too much too soon could actually set them back.

But Teal'c... Teal'c scared her. It wasn't just dogged obstinacy; this was a frightening, unmistakable _need._

*

**_Revisions_ **

Alert! Four new sets of lungs had suddenly intruded, breathing precious, rationed air.

Calculations raced along wires and circuits, determining the strength of the shield, the diminishing energy source, the reduced number of beings that allowed for continued viability under the dome. Equations spun, fractured, recalibrated. The same answer as always proved to be the only logical solution: _reduce the number of beings to permit the continued existence of those that remain._

_Rewrite._

Four people suddenly raised their chins, eyes blank, faces smoothed of all expression. They walked away from their regular tasks and headed toward the perimeter... and death.

*

**_Lifeboat_ **

Martice snarled silently at the teeming _others_ who vied against him. How dared they even attempt to wrest this body from him! He was their Sovereign, their supreme leader!

Years of command had honed the sharpness of his will, allowing him to dominate the mewling souls that begged for voice. He only ceded control when the pain grew too great.

When he realized the full extent of Pharrin's betrayal, though, Martice acted swiftly. He rummaged through the tangled pathways and found the _other_ that was Pharrin's own child. "Beg your father for life," he hissed, and shoved the boy forward.

*

**_Enemy Mine_ **

Evan spun away from the horrific sight, gorge rising in his throat. His breakfast suddenly returned with a vengeance as he vomited.

A few hours ago, Ritter had been a living, breathing human being. Now, all that was left was pitiful, mangled remains, a grotesque scarecrow in a line of warning totems.

As he weakly swiped his mouth with his sleeve, he could hear Teal'c calmly reporting their find over the radio. He stared at his trembling fingers and wished he could detect a more somber note in the Jaffa's tone, but perhaps he just couldn't read Teal'c very well.

*

**_Space Race_ **

Nomee watched avidly as Eamon's cousin Murray obediently palmed the scanner.

"Sorry your brother isn't doing well," she told Eamon. Her gaze darted sideways to see if Murray appreciated her concern.

"Me, too," Eamon sighed.

"Nice to meet you, Murray!" Nomee called after them, and was pleased to see his polite nod of acknowledgment.

As the two vanished down the hall, Nomee surreptitiously copied the palmprint to her own datapad for future reference. That Murray - so handsome, _and_ Eamon's relation! She liked an open-minded man, and with that kind of family background, Murray surely qualified. She'd call him tonight.

*

**_Avenger 2.0_ **

"Doctor Felger." General Hammond's voice was even, his face calm.

"General." His voice didn't crack - barely.

"Major Carter reported that you behaved admirably on P5S-117."

"Did she? Oh. That's - that's good, isn't it?"

"It is. It's why you're not getting fired."

Jay gulped.

"Doctor, if you were military, you'd be court martialed for your behavior yesterday. You disappeared, knowing your input was desperately needed to save lives."

"Sir, I didn't -"

"Being a civilian doesn't excuse the inexcusable." Hammond leaned forward. "You're transferring to Area 51 tomorrow, Doctor - and I don't want to see you here in the SGC ever again."

*

**_Birthright_ **

"Some people would say," Janet drawled, her Southern accent more pronounced under alcohol's influence, "that an 80% success rate isn't bad."

She swirled the brandy in her glass, then knocked its contents back.

" _Some_ people," she mocked. "Some people are idiots!"

The woman had been unquestionably afraid. But she'd accepted tretonin, trusting Janet and her team to keep her alive for her people's sake.

And they'd failed.

Janet reached for the bottle again, pouring a more generous helping. She rose to her feet, carefully steady, and raised her glass high.

"To Mala," she announced to her empty house, and drank.

*

**_Evolution, part 1_ **

Bill tried not to shuffle his feet, but General Hammond's mantle of cool authority made him feel like he was defending his dissertation again - before a particularly hostile panel. "General, I'm not sure I'm qualified for this mission."

"Doctor Lee, Doctor Jackson needs a scientist with familiarity with Ancient technology. Let him cover the archaeological and linguistic aspects; your job will be to assess any device you might find."

"I've only been off-world three times, sir," Bill confessed.

Hammond smiled gently. "At least this is the same planet, Doctor. Get your things packed, and good luck to you both."

*

**_Evolution, part 2_ **

It couldn't tell how long it had been. It knew only one thing: reproduce. Again, and again, and again. More symbiotes, as insensible as itself. 

Confused and drugged, wiped of anything to transfer to its progeny, it just drifted, weary and mindless of anything but the dragging passage of time. It might have done nothing but reproduce for all eternity.

When the end suddenly came - when a roar shattered eons of silence, and jagged edges slashed its flesh in an abrupt explosion, and life-saving liquid drained rapidly away - it was almost surprised to actually _feel_ something: complete, utter relief.

*

**_Grace_ **

Erin tried to speak, move, blink. Nothing happened. Only her mind was still hers, thoughts churning wildly as she strained to understand.

It seemed the _Prometheus_ really couldn't catch a break; the mysterious enemy that pummeled her shields had left the ship vulnerable, on the verge of destruction. Erin had stayed at her post, forcing calm into her voice and movements, obeying Ronson's orders, and then...

Carter tried a hyperspace hop into the mysterious cloud nebula.

Had it worked? Or were they all dead?

 _If this is death_ , she thought, oddly irritated, _Jackson might've warned us how boring it gets._

*

**_Fallout_ **

Kianna knew these people well - especially Jonas, who worked with... _it_ for so long.

But none of them knew _her._

When Jonas offered her tea, it was already sweetened to the Goa'uld's tastes, not hers. The art on her walls, the clothing in her closet, even the snacks in the cupboards - none of it was to her liking. She wasn't disoriented or confused; she'd never lost full awareness of what was happening, and she recognized people, referenced events, documents and codes. But she was suddenly a stranger to former colleagues, and that was one more thing the Goa'uld had stolen.

*

**_Chimera_ **

The debriefing went on for weeks.

At first, Daniel insisted on being with her during the questioning. But she couldn't bear his presence, his instinct to protect ( _it's much too late for that, Daniel_ ). After a while, Dr. Frasier took his place as her advocate.

Sarah appreciated her cool professionalism, but most of all, she was grateful for Janet's utter neutrality. Oh, she defended Sarah, using her medical authority to halt a session without hesitation when Sarah's energies flagged. But her attitude was not one of pity. Janet Frasier saw neither victim nor patsy, but simply a patient - someone _human._

*

**_Death Knell_ **

"The most important skill in diplomacy, sir, is pretending not to notice." Kovacek's wry smile grew twisted. "But, sir, I don't know if we'll be able -"

"The time for that is past, Colonel." Hammond's hands were pressed flat against his desk in an effort not to allow them to clench into fists, but his voice was perfectly steady. "Keeping secrets is bad enough, even if it's sometimes par for the course in this facility. But the Tok'ra went too far this time."

"Yes," Kovacek agreed somberly.

Risk was one thing, but deaths broke alliances - even ones as important as this.

*

**_Heroes, part 1_ **

Emmett had years of experience working with the military. He anticipated the resentment, stonewalling, and passive-aggressive resistance; he managed to establish a decent rapport with most soldiers anyway.

But here...

Instinctive wariness comes with mandated secrecy, and the _Prometheus_ debacle made things worse. Emmett accepted that, knowing that to the SGC, _freedom of the press_ competed with _national security_ \- or, in this case, _planetary security_.

But he'd been invited here by the President, to make a documentary that would be hidden away until the Stargate went public! Was this unnecessary caution, or blatant censorship? And how could Emmett tell?

*

**_Heroes, part 2_ **

When the wounded first poured into the infirmary, Warner focused wholly on the patient bleeding under his hands. His world narrowed down to triage and treatment, surgery and sutures. Everything else that was happening was peripheral, dismissed as _not important now_. There were other doctors, other medical personnel. They would deal with it. Warner's job was his current patient and nothing else.

Hours later, when he learned about Janet, he was grateful that tunnel vision had enabled him to get the job done. Janet would've kicked him six ways to Sunday if he'd let his grief interfere with his work.

*

**_Resurrection_ **

_Note to self,_ Bill thought a little hysterically. _Don't go on on-world missions together with any members of SG-1._

Here he was, at ground zero for a naquadah bomb. The fact that he'd explode this time, rather than dying of thirst or beatings in Honduras, didn't make him feel any better.

Carefully studying the readouts of the yellow crystal, Bill tried to imagine himself safely at the SGC, secure in his lab. Except that even there, he was usually handling hazardous and mysterious materials. 

_Face it, Bill,_ he told himself. _If you want safety, you're in the wrong profession._

*

**_Inauguration_ **

Hayes stared unseeingly at the papers on his desk, lost in thought.

Maynard might suffer from a little hero-worship - and wasn't that just a little bit wrong, considering that he commanded these people? - but he was also clearly concerned about what was obviously a genuine threat.

Kinsey was just politics and power. That's all he ever was, really. 

And Woolsey? Was he actually trying to do the right thing, or just trying to position himself on the right side?

Still. Front lines, seven years running...

Burnout could be very real. Perhaps dealing with that should be the first step.

*

**_The Lost City, part 1_ **

While Bra'tac had learned from Samantha Carter and Janet Frasier that women could be most formidable, this vapidly smiling female did not seem to qualify. She wore no uniform, claimed no title. Why offer her respect?

"Has Hammond of Texas fallen in battle?" he demanded.

Daniel Jackson's quiet explanation did little to ease his concern. Bra'tac was all too familiar with the posturing and sacrifices the Go'auld required to save face. It was bitter to learn that the Tau'ri were equally weak in this regard. 

Hammond had fallen in battle after all - a victim of the sordid war of _politics._

*

**_The Lost City, part 2_ **

When the chopper neared the coordinates, no one was quite sure what to approach first: the deep shaft burrowing into the ice, or the alien ship hovering nearby. 

"Are we sure that's not one of the bad guys?" muttered one of the medics.

"Enemy is accounted for," the pilot said dryly. "If that ship isn't blown up, it's an ally."

The radio crackled. "This is Sierra Gulf One, do you read?"

"Loud and clear, Sierra Gulf One. What's your status?"

A long pause, then, "Stable."

"Do you require assistance?"

Again, that too-long pause. 

"No."

They _had_ won, hadn't they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't be the only one who realized that when SG-1 first walked into the dome in _Revisions_ , they unwittingly caused the deaths of four people...


	9. Season Eight

_New Order, part 1_

Many Asgard thought it unnecessary for Thor to monitor the process of Halla's sun. As Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, however, Thor insisted that it was dangerous to ignore the risk that the Replicators might escape the doomed planet before the black hole's event horizon destroyed it.

The task was almost mindless, but like all Asgard, the millennia had taught Thor patience. He remained on his ship at a safe distance from the collapsing sun, waiting.

Then the damaged ship appeared on his sensors. Wondering why his Tau'ri friends had risked their lives, Thor moved swiftly to rescue them.

*

_New Order, part 2_

Fifth was confident that his decision was logical. Samantha Carter had first befriended, then betrayed him on their first meeting. Her capture was initially satisfying, but the failure to bend her properly to his will had frustrated his ultimate intentions.

He should have chosen this from the beginning, Fifth concluded. After all, wasn't he himself a product of the development of an advanced life form? It had been foolish to try to be satisfied with the organic version when the option to create an improved being was available.

"Don't be afraid," he advised the new human form Replicator, and smiled.

*

_Lockdown_

Lieutenant Karen Evans glanced ruefully at her tray. Once again, she would be eating in the infirmary. With the emergency tests that General O'Neill ordered, there was no time for a meal in the relatively civilized atmosphere of the commissary. She gave a mental shrug, knowing that the unexpected was par for the course in the SGC.

Half-turning, she shouldered her way out of the commissary, eyes on her brimming coffee cup. Then she looked up and saw three SFs, weapons aimed at her.

Training shook Karen out of paralysis. Dropping the tray, she raised her hands in surrender.

*

_Zero Hour_

Ba'al thoughtfully stroked his goatee as he listened to the audio transmissions that his Jaffa had salvaged.

_"I've been unable to make radio contact with SG-1, going on nineteen minutes. Requesting backup and permission to begin searching."_

A garbled mutter, then, more clearly: _"Backup on the way."_

"So," Ba'al purred, and the smile that slowly grew was one that the human would remember all too well. "Are you in charge of the Tau'ri now, O'Neill? It shall be interesting to see if your response to... stimuli has changed."

He straightened on his throne. One needn't possess hostages to utilize them.

*

_Icon_

There was a time, Soren thought vaguely, that he had been more interested in power and prestige than the holy cause. Those days were long past, and his utter conviction in his role as the redeemer pulsed through him, hot and strong.

He sneered at the weak-minded non-believers who hesitated to fight against the interlopers, raging against their feeble wills. 

"You question your faith?" he shouted to their blank, shamed faces. "I will show you faith!"

Snatching a weapon from the slack hands of one of his followers, Soren stalked forward to confront the enemy, head held high.

*

_Avatar_

Dr. Carmichael anxiously monitored Teal'c's vitals, his worry increasing with every jolt of electricity the chair delivered to his patient. 

They couldn't shut down the chair without the risk of neural damage, but if Teal'c's adrenaline continued to spike, heart failure was inevitable. Which would be worse?

He paid little attention to the others as they discussed how to end the game; his entire focus was on Teal'c, the IV, and the erratic medical readouts. The cumulative effect was going to kill him if this couldn't be stopped!

His request for a crash cart denied, Carmichael readied an emergency syringe.

*

_Affinity_

Krista felt a spike of pure terror as their captors ordered her and Teal'c's friend to stand by the wall. 

"Daniel?" she quavered, unsure what he could say or do, but desperate for any kind of comfort.

His expression, as he looked at her, seemed an odd mix of annoyance and reassurance. "It's going to be okay," he promised once again, his mouth quirking into a bleak smile.

The sudden smell of ozone and a sharp crackling came only a fraction of an instant before blinding, agonizing pain proved him a liar and sent Krista into a spiral of unconsciousness.

*

_Covenant_

Julia knew how to smile and grit her teeth through a report that she knew was nonsense. She'd made an agreement two years ago, and no matter how much she hated the gag order, she would honor her word.

So, plastic grin in place, she nattered for the cameras, knowing that Colson was closer to the truth than anyone might imagine. She kept up a silent mantra: _Pulitzer Prize. They promised they'd call me first._

When her sources spotted SGC members outside of Colson Industries, though, Julia's patience snapped. Scrabbling through her private phonebook, she called Carter to demand answers.

*

_Sacrifices_

Bra'tac remembered how Teal'c had celebrated two weddings with Drey'auc: the first when Apophis formally gifted her to Teal'c as a reward, and the second when the two had indulged in the guilty pleasure of following Jaffa tradition rather than Goa'uld whim. The first wedding had been blessed by Apophis himself, and was thus tainted; the second, conducted in secret, had been a true joining of spirit and body, but was marred by the need for concealment.

This wedding was different: public, proud, joyous.

"May you love and fight like warriors - just not with each other," he declared, and laughed.

*

_Endgame_

Zarin reined in her irritation as the rebel Jaffa postured and threatened. Aware of the sometimes painful history between their peoples, she exercised patience even when one of them tried to choke her.

She stoutly denied their accusations of poisoning. The symbiote poison had been a desperate ploy that had proved dangerously impractical. None would risk it again! And surely, even if such methods were being considered, she would be informed!

Then came the sound of rocket fire, and the air suddenly choked in her lungs. Dying, Zarin realized that the Tok'ra might be innocent, but the killing was real.

*

_Gemini_

She stood impassively, apparently docile, but her mind raced _click click click._

Carter was easy to handle; she need only look at herself, in the cold light of Replicator sensibilities, and choose the right weakness. Teal'c was more risky, for he could be ruthless when needed; but there, too, she could reach into her memories of Samantha and say just enough to make the Jaffa hesitate before shooting.

But now, the weapon that could annihilate her was in the hands of a female sergeant she did not know and thus could not manipulate. Would her plans fail with her destruction?

*

_Prometheus Unbound_

George tilted his head to one side, a smile curling his mouth. He could hear O'Neill and Jackson bickering with each other from halfway down the hall.

He felt a little guilty usurping O'Neill's authority like this, but not much. He knew he was fulfilling an important duty at Homeworld Security, but at times, it seemed that the dangers and monsters lying in wait through the Stargate were peanuts compared to the sharks that circled in Washington.

This was a rare chance for him to stretch his legs - metaphorically, anyway - and George Hammond planned to make the most of it.

*

_It's Good to be King_

When Trelak recognized the rebels, his eyes gleamed with feral joy. Teal'c, the most infamous of _shol'va_ , at his mercy! He savored the pleasure this capture would give Lord Ares, knowing that he would be rewarded as well.

Ignoring the insignificant Tau'ri who accompanied the _shol'va_ , Trelak took great pleasure in taunting Teal'c, both in word and in deed. He dismissed Teal'c's idle, toothless threats of revenge. What could the _shol'va_ do now, helpless and weak?

When Teal'c fought him strength for strength and drove a blade into his belly, it was too late for Trelak to learn the answer.

*

_Full Alert_

After years of open hostility between them, it was strange to regard O'Neill as an ally. But Hammond was gone now, promoted to Washington, and the star on O'Neill's shoulder seemed to have mellowed him.

Of course, Chekov thought grimly, their alliance was not based on friendship, but the desperate need to avert disaster. Russia. The United States. Kinsey. Kiselov. Did human or Goa'uld hold a finger on the button to ignite nuclear war?

The call to Mikailhov wasn't enough. Chekov, unashamed to beg, pleaded with O'Neill to wait.

O'Neill respected him enough to pause... and the planet was saved.

*

_Citizen Joe_

Charlene's eyes widened at the sight of the stiff officer in full dress uniform. They stretched even further when Joe introduced him by name.

 _General Jack O'Neill?_ It couldn't be!

The man removed his hat to reveal graying hair. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he said gravely.

She shook his hand mechanically, his mind reeling. If Jack O'Neill actually existed - if all of Joe's visions had been true -

She sat down on the bench, feeling numb. As O'Neill began to speak and explain, she wondered vaguely if there was any way she and Joe could ask for reparations.

*

_Reckoning, part 1_

_Click._

The biological beings had intruded and interfered and thus required elimination. 

Knowledge, carried by billions of individual bits working seamlessly as one, carried the Replicators forward. These entities possessed weapons that were capable of damaging individual segments. This mattered little, so long that the whole achieved its goals.

But even as the Replicators advanced, their programming signaled a warning: while biological beings were ordinarily identical and equally dispensable, one of these carried a specific signature, unique and in demand.

 _Click. Click._ Identification verified and sent.

 _Click. Click._ Query?

 _Click. Click._ Instructions.

The Replicator transporter beam carried Daniel Jackson away.

*

_Reckoning, part 2_

The struggle to keep Selmac's consciousness from fading away completely sapped every bit of Jacob's self control. He had a temper at the best of times, he knew, but now...

"Selmac can't work like this," he gritted at Sam, turning his back on Ba'al's smirking countenance. "And neither can I!"

 _Yes, you can,_ Selmac murmured in his mind. The sense of the voice was weak, but it still carried that edge of sardonic humor that Jacob had known since first meeting Saroosh, so many years ago. _We both can._

 _We have to,_ Jacob acknowledged wearily, and got back to work.

*

_Threads_

Anubis, in the persona of Jim, was enjoying himself. The Ancients and their stodgy policy of non-interference always bored him, but this admittedly petty payback was immensely satisfying, especially when Jackson and Oma were both helpless to oppose him.

As always, Oma's refusal to take action gave him all the leeway he needed. Even if that lower plane of existence was small and insignificant, having an entire dimension to mold in his own image more than made up for it.

Jackson tried to lunge at him; Anubis laughed in his face. Then Oma suddenly straightened, and Anubis remembered fear.

*

_Moebius, part 1_

Major Davis didn't understand why Jackson and Carter were so important, but he obediently followed orders. 

_Get Daniel Jackson,_ they'd said. 

_Find Samantha Carter,_ they'd said.

He knew their names and a few possibilities regarding rank, doctorates, and skills. No one suggested Daniel Jackson might be working in a dinky adult education center teaching ESL or that Samantha Carter, far from being in the military, would hold a very minor position in aerospace research. 

If anyone had asked his opinion, Davis would've said that they were both pathetic losers who couldn't possibly be worth anyone's time. But no one asked.

*

_Moebius, part 2_

When Katep saw the three ghosts walk across the sands, he had to fight the impulse to flee. Daniel had said that strangers might appear who seemed to mirror himself and the fallen, but Katep had not imagined they would look so like, yet unlike the friends he had known and mourned.

Yet there they were: O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c. Their gait was changed, their expressions unfamliar, but their faces remained the same.

No second Daniel was with them. Perhaps a spirit could not appear in the guise of one who still lived?

Mastering his fears, Katep hurried to greet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this is the last season I did. I have never been a fan of S9-10 and that makes it even more difficult. Still, despite my current writer's block, I do hope this will be completed... someday. :)


End file.
